


Prisoners of Will, Crusaders of Thought

by Marvelgirl4



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Spoilers, Gen, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Torture, Jessica Jones (TV) Spoilers, Past Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-10-19
Packaged: 2018-08-14 11:03:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 11,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8011174
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marvelgirl4/pseuds/Marvelgirl4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica Jones doesn't know how she keeps finding herself in these situations. When a strange young man follows her back to her apartment one day and begs for her help in finding his way home, she believes it will be as easy as a single phone call, but upon discovering the man's true identity, and what (or rather who) his definition of home truly is, she discovers that it may take more than a simple search to set things right.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stalker

**Author's Note:**

> Guys, this is my first published fanfic! If you like it, maybe leave a comment, some kudos, or, if you think it deserves it, perhaps a bookmark! Enjoy!

The Asset (Bucky, his mind screamed, my name is Bucky!!) kept his eyes fixed on the raven hair in front of him, moving stealthily through the crowded city streets. This woman, she could help, he knew she could! He had been watching her for weeks now. She was smart, she knew how to find people. He just needed to get her alone, to talk to her. She would, no doubt, take some convincing. His past wasn’t exactly a secret. 

But then, neither was hers. 

The woman walked quickly, head lowered against the brisk winter wind. She pushed through the crowd easily, slipping around her fellow pedestrians like water. Thanks, Bucky thought, you’re making it easier for me. He hesitated a bit as she entered her building, not wanting to make himself too obvious. So far, he had kept a respectable distance between them, having begun his pursuit in the park, where he had first spotted her. To avoid suspicion, Bucky continued on, walking several blocks out of his way and rounding a corner, creating a U turn and walking back the way he’d come, this time along the next street over from hers. Not very crafty, he had to admit, but he didn’t much care. He had to stay as close as possible to her. This was important. This was everything. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“Was he cute at least?” 

“I don’t know, Trish, I wasn’t exactly looking!” 

“Creepy dude follows you home and you don’t even try to notice if he’s hot? What kind of single woman are you?” 

“The kind whose luck with men doesn’t leave her optimistic!” 

“Are you gonna tell Luke about him?” 

Jessica rolled her eyes at her best friend’s implication. “He’s a stalker, Trish,” she admonished, “and not even a particularly good one. I’ll take care of him. Luke doesn’t even need to find out. And you’re not going to tell him!” She added, quickly, satisfied with Trish’s disappointed huff on the other end of the line. 

Truth be told, the stalker hadn’t been bad-looking, necessarily. He had kept his hat and sunglasses on the whole time, obscuring his face, but he looked well-built under the shabby red shirt, and his jeans had fit well. There was definite strength there, leaner than Luke, but much more muscular than- 

Jessica shook her head like a dog trying to clear water from its ears. She was doing well, she didn’t have to think about him right now. She had a more urgent problem. 

“Jess? Are you still there?” Trish’s voice asked, worried. 

“Uh, yeah, sorry,” Jessica came back to herself, “I just got lost in thought. It’s been a weird-ass day.” She pinched the bridge of her nose, shutting her eyes tightly against a growing headache. 

“Have you been sleeping?” 

“Have you been?” 

There was silence on the other end, for a while. “No,” Trish spoke, finally, “but, unlike you, I’m not alone in an apartment without a door. I have my security system. Jess, you don’t even have a lock.” 

“I have myself,” Jessica replied, defensively, “and if that doesn’t work, I have a window perfect for escaping through. I gotta go, Trish,” she realized, suddenly, noticing something alarming outside her escape-window, “if I don’t call you later tonight, call Luke.” 

“Wait, Jess-!” 

She hung up, leaving her cell phone on her desk. “Son of a bitch,” Jessica snarled, “this city’s getting fucking crowded!!”


	2. Rooftop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They're just about to meet, I promise! Next chapter!

With the benefit of hindsight, perhaps lingering on the rooftop adjacent to the woman’s building hadn’t been such a smart idea. 

Honestly, lingering anywhere near her hadn’t been such a smart idea, but how was he supposed to know she was an enhanced?! 

Things had seemed to be going well, at first. Bucky had conned his way into the building easily enough (amazing what one could do with a pathetic-enough-sounding voice), and made his way onto the rooftop with ease, thanks to the tendency of the building’s maintenance man to forget locking the door. 

Chalk one up to a bad neighborhood, Bucky had mused, God, this city’s changed. 

He hadn’t bothered to hide once he was on the roof. After all, in a city as busy as New York, who ever stopped to look up, any more? 

Well, it turned out eagle-eyed passersby and off-duty cops, all of whom had swiftly begun variations on the phrase: “don’t jump! You have so much to live for!” 

Now the building was surrounded, and Bucky was, for the most part, trapped. He rolled his eyes as the frenzy below him ebbed and flowed. He wasn’t going to jump, for Christ’s sake! He had a mission to complete. Of course, none of them knew that. Besides, part of him had to begrudgingly admit, he was touched that they all seemed to care, even if they were seriously in his way. 

“Sir,” a police officer spoke, through a megaphone, “step away from the ledge! Someone is coming up to get you!” 

Well, that wouldn’t do at all. 

Bucky backed away from the edge of the roof, fighting the urge to laugh as a chorus of cheers erupted from the street. Let them believe they’d saved his life. It would make an interesting story for the witnesses to tell their friends and loved ones. Bucky had to leave, had to find a new way to observe the only person he knew could help him. 

Jessica Jones, he thought, shaking his head, you’d better be worth it. 

~~~~~~~~ 

At the same time as Bucky’s rooftop debacle, Jessica was hurrying across the street, following the sounds of the crowd that had gathered, lured in by the promise that they might just see gore, today. 

Morbid, Jessica thought, disdainfully, haven’t these people ever heard of Netflix? 

Cutting through the throng of people, Jessica approached the first police man she could find, a rather young-looking man holding a megaphone. “Hey,” she started, “what the hell’s going on here?” 

“Ma’am,” the officer tried to sound important, “please move back behind the perimeter!” 

Jessica turned and stared pointedly at the crowd, who were by no means keeping any kind of perimeter. “Yeah,” she started slowly, “listen, are you new to the force?” The policeman nodded, reluctantly, “Probably just graduated from the academy, this is the first real action you’ve seen?” 

“Ma’am,” he tried to regain control, “I must insist you-“ 

“Okay, let’s get something straight,” Jessica was rapidly losing patience, “first of all, I’m not old enough to be your mother, so cut the ma’am shit! Second of all, you need to learn better crowd control because this,” she gestured, “is on the brink of chaos, and third of all,” Jessica pointed up at the man on the roof, “that’s no jumper! That’s some idiot who wandered up there, probably by accident, and now is too freaked to come down on his own! So,” she thought quickly, “you can either break up the circus your presence has created, or I can file a noise complaint against this whole damn city, because this shit is fucking with my business!” 

“Hey wait,” the officer replied, recognition in his voice, “I recognize you! You’re the chick from the news! The one who killed that guy!” 

“Excellent police work,” Jessica responded, coldly, “I can see you graduated top of your class!” 

She shoved past him, roughly, ignoring his protests, and made her way into the building and up to the roof. If the police wouldn’t quiet everything down, Jessica was more than happy to do their job for them. Again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You people who left kudos on the first chapter, you're so good! Especially you, first commenter! Message me if it's cool to say your username in shoutouts! Yes, I'm the type of person who does shoutouts!


	3. Come On, Stranger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally meet! See what happens!

Bucky was stuck. 

It didn’t seem possible, but it was. The most dangerous assassin for the last seventy years, the ghost story, the myth, was now, somehow, trapped on a rooftop. Since when were the buildings in New York so spaced out? From following Jessica Jones around, he had thought they looked closer together. There was no way he could make a jump from this distance! 

Or, maybe he could? 

Even before HYDRA, Bucky had never had the most confidence in his abilities. He had often doubted himself, only to be surprised later by what he was truly capable of. When he had first enlisted, he hadn’t believed he could be proficient with a sniper rifle, but he’d ended up being a crack shot. Maybe this was the same thing. 

No, his conscience chided, you wouldn’t let Steve be this reckless! 

But, Steve was different. 

There was only one way to really be sure he could make the jump, and that was to attempt it. Bucky considered the pros and cons. Pro: if he made it, he would be out of this situation and free to find Jessica Jones again. Con: if he missed, he, well…missed. 

He could stay here and let the police officer (who was taking a surprisingly long time) discover who he was, and blow the whole operation. Was that really an option, though? Bucky thought he would do alright in prison, but that wasn’t the problem. If he was arrested, he would have to abandon his search. He would never find Steve. 

Alright. He would attempt the jump. The distance wasn’t really that far, and there wasn’t too much wind. Had he been attempting to hit a target, these conditions would be ideal. Unfortunately, the only target Bucky was aiming for was the hard concrete platform of the roof across from his, and Bucky himself was the bullet. 

From fist to bullet, he smirked, wouldn’t they be proud? 

“Hey!” 

A sudden, sharp voice broke Bucky’s concentration, and he startled, wobbling dangerously on the ledge upon which he had balanced himself. Stepping down quickly to get himself out of immediate danger, Bucky turned to face the speaker, eyes widening as he took in the furious woman standing before him. 

“You’re an idiot if you think you can make that.” She continued, matter-of-factly. 

“What if I don’t think I can make it?” Bucky countered, “What am I, then?” 

“Still an idiot,” Jessica shrugged, casually, “just a more miserable one.” 

“I guess I’m an idiot either way, then.” Bucky started toward her, slowly. “You’re not so smart yourself,” he tried to sound threatening, “coming up here and facing me by yourself.” 

“You think I’m afraid of you?” Jessica scoffed, “Buddy, you’re clearly new in town if you think you’re the most dangerous thing I’ve encountered. Besides,” she taunted, “I don’t tend to be intimidated by jerks in cheap gas station shades and stupid ball caps.” 

“You would be if you knew who was wearing the cheap shades and stupid hat.” 

“At least I’m brave enough to show my face when I follow people.” 

Bucky decided he liked this woman. If she couldn’t help him find Steve, maybe she could at least help him navigate this new, screwed up version of his childhood home. “Doll face,” he sighed, “I need to get off this rooftop. If you think my way’s so stupid, then why don’t you show me a better way?” 

“Did you just call me Doll face?” The low, dangerous tone of her voice set Bucky back on his heels. He had forgotten, the colloquialisms of the forties weren’t all necessarily acceptable anymore. The last thing he wanted to do was drive away his only chance of getting back on track. 

“I’m sorry!” Bucky backpedaled, quickly, “It just slipped out! I used to, uh,” he ignored the dull pain in his chest as he thought about the last person he had called that name, “I used to say that a lot. It won’t happen again.” 

“It’d better not,” Jessica affirmed, “or I’ll make sure you find your way off this rooftop.” 

Bucky didn’t really know if she was kidding or not. 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Jessica led Bucky down the stairwell, careful to step over the police officer she had knocked out, who was beginning to stir a bit. 

“Is he alright?” Bucky asked, amused. 

“Oh yeah, he’s fine,” Jessica assured, off-handedly, “bit of a headache once he wakes up, but he’ll live.” 

“Well, as long as he’ll live.” 

Jessica rolled her eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re on of those ‘violence won’t solve anything’ types.” 

“No,” Bucky replied, quietly, “I’ve just seen enough to know when it’s needed and when it’s not.” He scratched, absently, at his left shoulder, feeling the seam under his shirt where man became machine, which, as if it sensed his attention, began to ache, dully. Seventy years, he thought, bitterly, and this damn thing still doesn’t feel right. 

He had thought, a while back, about having the prosthesis removed completely and replaced with…well, he didn’t know, but anything else. Bucky had spotted a billboard while hitchhiking to New York that advertised a team of professionals who could do such a procedure, and were actually licensed and everything, but then reason had gotten the better of him. Bucky would have had to come out of hiding much earlier than he planned to. He couldn’t very well wear his ball cap and shades during the surgery. 

He was also flat fucking broke. No money, no procedure. 

So, Bucky was stuck with this monstrosity, an ever-present reminder that he could never really be the man he had once been. He could never be Steve’s Bucky. The arm hung, heavy as an iron shackle, binding him to a bloody past. So long as it was attached, part of him would always be the Winter Soldier. 

“Hey,” Jessica’s voice cut through his brooding, “were you listening to anything I was saying?”  
“No,” Bucky admitted, “I was lost in thought.” 

“Well, find your way out quick,” she directed him, “you attracted one hell of a crowd outside. You’ll need to keep your wits about you and stay close.” 

“I think I can handle a few rowdy townsfolk.” He joked, “I’ve survived more dangerous conditions than this.” 

“More dangerous than a mob of New Yorkers who’ve been denied blood?” Jessica replied, cynically, “Can’t wait to unlock your tragic backstory. What, were you raised in a gang?” 

“Something like that.” Bucky dodged the question. 

“I’m gonna regret asking this,” Jessica began, “but, do you have a place to stay tonight? A place to stay legally?” She tacked on, seeing him consider the question. 

“I’ll be fine,” Bucky tried to assure her, “I know this city like the back of my hand. I actually grew up here.” 

“When’s the last time you visited besides now?” 

“It’s been years,” he answered, as truthfully as he could, “but, I doubt much has changed.” 

“Alright,” Jessica decided, “this is going to come back to bite me in the ass big time, but, if you have absolutely nowhere else to go, I can’t have you wandering the streets of my city making messes that I’m gonna have to clean up. Come on, you’re staying at my place for now, until I can figure out who the hell you really are.”


	4. Surprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> We get a surprise visitor in this chapter! Jess might not be too happy to see him, but Bucky sure is! 
> 
> Sorry, it's not Steve. 
> 
> Yet.

As they exited the building, Bucky realized quickly that Jessica may have been correct. 

The police officer with the megaphone, whom Bucky noticed looked way too young to be in such a dangerous line of work (Steve Rogers Syndrome, he joked to himself), was having a hell of a time keeping the mass of rowdy New Yorkers at bay, as they all crowded him, shouting questions and demanding details the officer obviously didn’t have. Bucky was strangely glad Jessica was beside him. Having her near was helping him ground himself against a growing panic attack. 

“You two!” The policeman called frantically, attempting to stall Jessica and Bucky, “You’re coming with me to the station!” 

“You’re welcome,” Jessica snorted, contemptuously, “I just saved this guy’s life.”  
“You and him have a lot to answer to!” The young man bellowed, furiously. 

“You people have my number,” she responded, leading Bucky away, “call me if you really wanna make a big deal out of it.” 

Bucky felt a nervous kick in his gut as he took in the officer’s furious expression. His handlers had looked at him like that, many times in the past. He didn’t remember the exact details, only fragments of a few incidents. The most recent one he could remember, he thought, had been the first time he’d seen Steve again. His last handler (Price? No, Pierce. Like, what a blade does to the heart) had looked the way the policeman did now when Bucky had admitted to the recognition. It might just be his mind playing tricks, but Bucky could swear that, as he strained to recall the incident, the side of his face began to burn a bit as though he had just been slapped, and he could feel an electric charge running through his body. 

Wait, Bucky realized, the reality of the situation dawning on him, there definitely is an electric charge. 

“You stupid son of a bitch!” He could hear Jessica screaming over the roaring in his ears, “Did he look violent to you?! Give me that fucking thing before you hurt anyone else!!” 

It wasn’t the voltage of the taser that paralyzed Bucky. Alright, that didn’t feel pleasant, but once one has had several hundred volts of electricity sent through one’s brain multiple times in one’s life, a little shock from a taser doesn’t amount to much; but, that was the problem. Bucky had felt this sensation before, this painful, inescapable buzzing, and he wasn’t too proud to admit, the memories it was dredging up were bringing tears to his eyes: a bunker in Siberia, secluded so nobody could hear the screaming, a laboratory in Germany run by a little man with a face like a rat, a white room he couldn’t escape, even though Steve was so close. 

“Hey,” Bucky tried to focus on the woman crouched beside him, “we have to move, now.” 

He couldn’t! He was trying, but the memories were so deep, he felt like they would drown him! “S-steve,” Bucky forced through clenched teeth, “n-need to find Steve!” It was then that he realized, his eyes were no longer being protected from the glare of the sun. When Bucky had fallen (hence the burning, as he had scraped the side of his face when he’d fallen onto the sidewalk), his hat and sunglasses had been knocked off, revealing his face not only to Jessica but to the police officer and the crowd, as well. “Oh God…” Bucky whispered, horrified, “I…I have to leave!” 

“No!” Jessica caught him as he jumped to his feet, holding him in place with an alarming amount of strength, “Sorry, but I’m not letting you cut out on me now. Let me handle this,” she ordered, softly, seeing Bucky’s fear, “I’m good with crowds.” 

The people around them seemed to fall silent one by one, as more and more of them saw who the man on the rooftop really was. There were a few hushed words of sympathy, and some of fear, but nothing was spoken loud enough for him to hear. “They’re afraid of me,” Bucky whispered, “Jessica, I need to get out of here, before things get ugly.” 

“If you run now, they’ll chase you.” Jessica stopped him, “They’ll think you’ve done something that warrants their hatred. Trust me,” she met his eyes, boldly, “I’ve been in this position before. Listen to me,” Jessica stepped toward the crowd, speaking with authority, “all of you, this city’s been through more shit in the past eight years than it, or you, can handle. We’ve had green assholes tearing up Harlem, fucking aliens, that weird portal thing, but he,” she pointed to Bucky, “had nothing to do with that. If you want to see chaos come to New York again, turn him in. Otherwise, let us pass, go about your days in peace.” 

The crowd parted, watching intently as Jessica and Bucky made their way through. Bucky tried to keep his head down, to avoid the mixture of curious glances and wary glares. The whispering continued as he passed. This time, Bucky could catch snatches of conversation; one or two words at a time. the ones that stood out the most were the names: Barnes, Sergeant, Solider, Rogers, Rogers, Rogers. Where was Rogers? Why wasn’t he with Rogers? Hadn’t there been a rumor that they had reunited? 

“You alright there, Freezer Burn?” Jessica nudged him, gently, “You look a little haunted.” 

“Just want to get away from here is all,” Bucky explained, “it’s getting claustrophobic.” 

“We’ll head back to my place. It’s at least easier to breathe there.” 

He smiled, gratefully. “Are you sure that invite still stands?” Bucky shrugged, “Ya know, now that you know who I really am? Might mean trouble.” 

“I can handle trouble,” Jessica assure him, “no matter how many kills it has on its record.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Jessica took in the man walking beside her, and sighed heavily. She had had some strange visitors in the past, but this took top prize. A Russian assassin once wanted by every major law enforcement agency in the world was by no means the safest choice of houseguest, but somehow, Bucky didn’t fit the descriptions the media had given. He didn’t seem dangerous or volatile, and he was certainly no criminal mastermind. Bucky just seemed like an average guy; a little lost, maybe, and he definitely had demons, but he didn’t look evil. 

He looked homeless. 

Long, shaggy, dark brown hair hung past his shoulders, matching in color the stubble that had grown on his face from months of not shaving. Bucky smelled like hot asphalt and dumpsters, and he walked with both hands shoved into the pockets of jeans that had developed holes on both knees. The ratty shirt he was wearing looked a size too big, but Jessica couldn’t decide if that was a product of not eating, or if the size had been chosen on purpose to hide his muscle definition and metal arm. 

That was definitely real, the arm. Jessica had caught a segment on the news once at Trish’s apartment where they had discussed myths versus truths about the Winter Soldier, and the arm had been a subject of debate. It seemed like a story someone would have developed as propaganda to spread fear: a mysterious assassin with a metal prosthesis strong enough to block bullets and crush bone, but, when Bucky had fallen after being teased by Officer Baby Face, his hands had come out of the pockets, and it had been impossible to miss the way the silver glinted in the midday sun. Still, Jessica wondered if the part about how strong the appendage was was true, as well. Could it really crush bone? That had to be an exaggeration, right? 

Bucky caught her staring and blushed, burying his left hand further into his pants pocket. “I’ll keep it hidden,” he murmured, “if it disturbs you, I’ll make sure to cover it up, somehow.” 

Jessica felt a spike of fury flash through her, as she saw how ashamed Bucky was of his prosthesis. Who had told him it was anything to be ashamed of? Had Rogers said something while they had been together? The arm was part of him! There was nothing shameful about it! “You don’t have to cover it up,” Jessica replied, quickly, “there’s no need to be all shamefaced about it. It’s a limb, just like any other limb; except, shiny and made of metal.” 

“It’s a weapon.” 

“So are kitchen knives, but you don’t see people hiding those.” 

“It’s a bit more dangerous than a kitchen knife,” Bucky smiled, halfheartedly, “and I doubt this thing would fit into a cutlery drawer.” 

“Hey,” Jessica attempted to joke as they approached her building, “we’ll never know until we try.” 

Bucky actually chuckled a little at that. “It doesn’t come off, Jessica,” he explained, “it’s fused to me, not just externally, but internally. There’s wires and shit in there.” 

“So,” Jessica reasoned, leading him to the elevator and pushing the button to her floor, “it’s irreversibly attached to your body, you can’t take it off, and it does everything a regular arm can do. Sounds like a normal limb to me.” 

“You’re really not bothered by it?” Bucky asked, sheepishly.  
“Not even a little.” Jessica smiled, “When you’ve seen the shit I’ve seen, fake appendages stop being exciting pretty quickly.” 

Bucky wondered idly what kind of past this strange woman had. She seemed to be sympathetic to him, but there was a definite dark side to Jessica Jones. How long would it take to gain her trust fully? Had anyone achieved that feat yet? Bucky doubted it. She didn’t seem like the open, loving, everyone-is-my-friends-and-the-world-is-wonderful type. Bucky supposed that was for the best. If Jessica was trusting him enough to let him into her apartment, it was a safe bet she wouldn’t tell anyone else he was there. Maybe he could even allow himself to feel safe. 

Sure, Bucky’s shoulders slumped, as safe as I felt in Bucharest. 

He had already been exposed to dozens of people. It was only a matter of time before the other shoe dropped and he had to go on the run, again. Maybe he should just give up looking for Steve. Even if he found him, Bucky highly doubted the Captain would want anything to do with him. He had, almost single-handedly, torn the avengers apart. Sure, Zemo had helped a lot, but only by revealing what Bucky had already done. 

He’d murdered Howard. Bucky had killed a man he had once considered one of his closest friends and allies. Why? Because some Russian fuck had told him to. 

Good reasoning, Asshole, Bucky scolded himself. 

Steve had told him that what he’d done hadn’t been his fault, that it hadn’t really been him. Who had it been, then? The reasonable answer would be HYDRA, but that wasn’t the whole truth. HYDRA had built the weapon, but Bucky had been the only one with his finger on the trigger. He should have been strong enough to break his conditioning before he had hurt innocent people. He should have been strong enough to stop himself! Why hadn’t he just fucking stopped himself?! He had recognized Howard, that night on the road. He had recognized Steve on the bridge, and yet, he had hurt both of them! Worse, he had murdered not only Howard, but Howard’s wife, as well. 

“Necessary collateral damage,” Bucky’s handler had dismissed, upon hearing his report, “we received what we need. Pay it no more mind.” 

Not that Bucky had been given a choice. He’d been wiped only moments after returning to the bunker. He’d been allowed to keep his memories of missions just long enough to give detailed reports, but once that was completed, everything was stripped away again. He became, time after time, HYDRA’s perfect blank slate. Just good enough for killing. 

A small ding filled the silence of the elevator, and the doors slid open to reveal a rather depressing hallway. “It’s at the end of the hall,” Jessica explained, “don’t say anything about the door.” she stopped him, before he could express his concern for the fact that the top of the door looked to consist of nothing much more than a cheap plastic tarp. 

“Not very secure,” Bucky mused, “how have you not been robbed yet?” 

“I don’t have anything worth stealing,” Jessica replied, simply, “plus, I have neighbors. If anyone tries anything shady, there are enough weirdos in this building to take care of it.” 

They stopped short, both seeing at the same time that the door was slightly ajar. “Jessica,” Bucky started, slowly, “did you at least close the door when you left, or is it always like that?” 

“I shut it,” she tensed, visibly, “I know I did.” 

Bucky’s breathing quickened, and he reached into his pocket, assured by the swiss army knife he felt in there. “Stay behind me,” he ordered, “this might get messy. Jessica!” He exclaimed, appalled, as she shoved past him roughly and stormed toward her apartment, drawing a gun he didn’t know she had been concealing. “Wait! I’m serious!” 

“Shut up!” She shot back, kicking open the door. “Who the fuck are you?!” Bucky heard her shout. 

“Easy,” a familiar, calm voice responded, “I’m not here for you, and I’m not looking for trouble.” 

Bucky rushed into the apartment to diffuse the situation. “Jessica,” he called, finding her standing in the middle of what he assumed was her living room with her gun drawn and raised, “drop the gun! Don’t shoot,” he practically begged, “he’s my friend.” 

“I saw you just now on the rooftop.” the intruder addressed him, “Almost gave me a heart attack, Barnes. I didn’t even know you were in town.” 

“I didn’t know you were here, either.” Bucky replied, “It’s good to see you, Sam.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, I'm sorry for the delay between updates! I'm actually in college right now, so it may be a day or two (or three) between chapters, but I swear, I won't leave you high and dry for too long, and I will not abandon this fic! I wouldn't do that to you!


	5. Involved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shit's about to get real! Oh, also, please forgive Bucky for his White Knight syndrome and trying to keep Jess out of the action. The dear isn't very smooth around strong women, and Sam isn't exactly a help. 
> 
> In case you were wondering about the arm, I kinda take a childish 'I refuse to accept this' approach to Tony blasting off Bucky's metal arm in Civil War, so in this fic, he has it.

Sam fucking Wilson. 

Leave it to the Falcon to know how to make an entrance. 

The last time Bucky had seen him, he’d been behind six inches of bulletproof glass and steel bars. 

They’d fought together. Sam had had his and Steve’s backs, and for that, Bucky was eternally grateful. This man had kept Rogers together better than any of the Avengers. He was good man, and an even better friend. That was why, when the time had come, Bucky had gladly risked his own neck helping Steve break Sam, as well as the others who had fought on their team, out of that stupid floating prison that had been sardonically named The Raft. 

“It’s been a while,” Bucky started, breaking the tense silence between the three of them, “I didn’t think we’d be seeing each other again after The Raft.” 

“Yeah?” Sam replied, “Well, last I heard, you made Rogers stick you back in cryo. How’d you get back to the U.S without us knowing?” 

“More importantly,” Jessica interjected, impatiently, “who the hell are you, how did you find out where I live, and what the fuck are you doing in my apartment?!?” 

“My apologies,” Sam extended a hand to her, “Sam Wilson. I’m a friend of your boy, here. I found out your address from a buddy of mine.” 

“Romanoff,” Bucky chuckled, “of course.” 

Sam tapped a same device in his ear, “She thought it might be useful to keep in touch after everything that happened between Steve and Tony. Natasha’s of the mind that just because their little bromance broke up, the whole team shouldn’t have to split apart.” 

“You agree with her?” 

“Don’t you?” 

Bucky sighed, heavily. “I’m not part of your team, Wilson,” he explained, “I don’t think I really get a say. Besides, I’m the main reason everything went to shit.” He shrugged, “I doubt they’d really want me butting in any more.” 

“Usually, I would agree with you,” Sam’s tone turned suddenly grave, “but, something’s happened with Steve.” Bucky’s heart seemed to stall as he continued, “We can’t find him. Whether the others like it or not, we need your help.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“What happened?” 

“Buck,” Wilson glanced subtly in Jessica’s direction, “maybe we should talk in private.” 

“Don’t you dare,” Jessica spoke up, low and dangerous, “cut me out of this after the shit I’ve already been through.” 

“Miss Jones,” Bucky tried to temper her, “my friend here is right. You haven’t seen what he and I have. We’ll take our business elsewhere, and leave you in peace.” 

“Or,” she bargained, “you can not treat me like a twelve-year-old. I told you earlier,” Jessica locked eyes with him, “I can handle any trouble.” 

“Not like this,” Bucky wouldn’t yield, “you won’t survive.” 

“You have.” 

“No,” he spoke, firmly, “I haven’t. I’ve floundered. Sam here will tell you, I’m a fuckin’ mess. These people,” Jessica rolled her eyes, “they’re not run-of-the-mill criminals. They’re not street thugs, Jessica. They’re monsters.” 

“He’s not exaggerating,” Sam backed Bucky up, “I’ve seen what they can do-what they’ve done already-and it makes me sick. They’re the worst kind of dangerous. These bastards are smart, they know how to manipulate a situation…and a mind.” 

Jessica snorted, unconvinced. “Manipulate a mind?” She repeated, “You think I can’t handle someone who can manipulate a mind?!” Fury filled her tone, “Listen, both of you. I don’t know if either of you are aware, but I have far too much experience with mind control, and I’ve fought my share of monsters. Neither of you, fucking neither of you, can tell me jack shit about danger, because neither of you have been through what I’ve been through!” 

“What you’ve been through?” Bucky realized, “You’ve been brainwashed, too, haven’t you?” 

Jessica took a deep breath. “Yes,” she sighed, heavily, “and I didn’t have the benefit of cryo to help me get through it. Leaked files after that shit in DC,” she responded to their puzzled expressions, “told everybody everything. My friend found your files on Twitter.” 

“You’re serious?” Bucky smirked, “And here I was, trying to hide.” 

“Well,” Jessica shrugged, “people are stupid. Most of them probably don’t realize they’ve seen you. Plus, there are a ton of hulking, attractive brunettes in the world. You look like half the population of New York.” 

“That’s a comfort.” 

“Back on topic, please?” Sam interjected, “Bucky, will you help or not? Either way, Cap’s missing, and I don’t know anyone better for dragging his ass back to civilization than the guy he made me spend two years chasing down with him.” 

“Of course I’ll help,” Bucky confirmed, “besides,” he smiled, ruefully, “you won’t last a day without me.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Jessica shook her head, grabbing her phone off her desk and making her way to her bedroom, desperate to get at least a little distance from the insane scene going on in her living room. One avenger was bad enough. Two was murder! 

Well, one and a half, she supposed. 

Bucky was an absolute puzzle, she decided; the annoying-as-hell, thousand piece kind, where there was only one piece missing. Jessica guessed Rogers was that missing piece, and damn if that wasn’t the world’s worst cliche! Why couldn’t anyone ever stay together?! Why did their relationships always have to be all ‘you’re the missing part of me’, and ‘I’m incomplete without you, darling’? Just once, she wanted to meet a couple who finished the fucking puzzle, no pieces omitted. 

Of course, Jessica huffed to herself, I had to go and offer to help, as if I don’t have my own crap to take care of. 

Those boys did owe her, though. Barnes had completely thrown off Jessica’s routine with his Jumper act, and Wilson had just broken into her apartment! Alright, she didn’t actually have a door that could have stopped him, but it was still trespassing! Not that anyone would prosecute Sam fucking Wilson for something as trivial as breaking and entering. Not even Jeri would touch a case like that. 

Jessica startled, as her neglected cell phone lit up, announcing an incoming text, which joined the multiple others from Trish. Awe, Jessica smiled a bit, worried about me, Walker? I’m the unbreakable one. 

Her smile softened as she read the messages, each one growing in worry as they went unanswered and most along the lines of: why did you hang up so fast? Are you alright? What’s happening? ANSWER, DAMNIT! 

I’m fine Trish, damn! Jessica typed out quickly. Trish was a champion friend, great if one needed a shoulder to cry on or an alibi, but damn, could that woman stress. Jessica couldn’t blame her, of course. After everything that had happened with Kilgrave, both of them had felt a heightened need to connect to each other. Keeping their distance had almost destroyed not only their friendship, but both of their lives, as well. Trish could worry as much as she wanted to. As long as she could send melodramatic texts, Jessica knew she was, at least, alive. 

What’s wrong, she texted, when Trish took too long to reply, you aren’t speaking to me, now, Patsy? 

Jessica waited, her own fear beginning to blossom. Trish hated that nickname! There was no way she wouldn’t at least respond to tell Jessica off for using it. Trish, she tried again, now you answer, damnit! 

I love you. 

The cellphone screen cracked audibly as it slammed to the floor. Jessica knew that code, she had created that code! They didn’t say I love you unless one of them was being controlled! But…no, Kilgrave was dead! Jessica had killed him herself, had felt him die! This had to be some sick joke! Fuck you, Jessica recovered her phone, ignoring the crack, that isn’t fucking funny, Trish! 

I love you, Jessica. 

Jessica bolted from her bedroom, eyes darting wildly around her apartment, looking for Bucky and Sam. Those bastards had left! “FUCK!” She screamed, charging out of her apartment and flying down the stairs, not having the patience to wait for the sluggish elevator. “You! Both of you!” Jessica ran after the boys, who had, thankfully, not made it very far. They turned, alarmed by her desperate appearance. “Put aside your macho bullshit!” Jessica shoved her phone at Bucky, who hurried to catch it before it hit the ground again, “I’m involved, whether you like it or not!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I swear, I will not let a week go by without updating again! I am really trying to keep up a "chapter every Tuesday" schedule, but that's tough when you have late classes on Tuesdays!


	6. Bait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> let the games begin!

“Explain this again,” Sam requested, “and maybe speak a bit slower this time.” 

Jessica was going out of her skin. She couldn’t just sit here! She had to get out! She had to help Trish! “I already told you,” she snarled, “my friend Trish is in danger! She’s being controlled by someone else!” 

As soon as Jessica had explained, the first time, about the code she and Trish used, Bucky and Sam had insisted on returning to her apartment, where they immediately started questioning Jessica on everything from the text, to what else it could mean besides danger. Jessica had to agree, begrudgingly, that she had done a pretty piss-poor job of explaining everything, at first, but she couldn’t help it! She was usually pretty good at controlling her emotions. By the rules of her job, she had developed an expert poker face. 

But, when her best friend was in danger? 

Fuck the poker face. 

“Is Trish the kind of person who would write this as a joke?” Sam tried to rationalize, “Could she maybe have forgotten the code, and just felt like saying it?” 

Jessica looked at him as though he had just sprouted a second head. “Are you fucking kidding me?” She spat, “You think, what, Trish was kidding? That she’s just messing with me?!” 

“It’s just a possibility.” Sam replied, calmly. “We need to eliminate every possible scenario before we go too far.” 

“Yeah, well, the Avengers would know about taking things too far.” 

There was a lengthy pause. Jessica knew that was a low blow, especially with everything that had happened to America’s resident ass-kickers in the past few months, but she was getting sick and tired of not being taken seriously, especially since she had a sneaking suspicion her friend being in danger had something to do with Wilson and Barnes being in the same place at the same time. If they had brought chaos back into her life after she had just started getting rid of it again, then they were going to help her fix things. “Look,” Jessica tried to compose herself, “if I knew exactly who I was dealing with, I would take care of this myself, but I don’t. I need…I need help. My usual backup,” she ignored the pang of regret that usually came with thinking of Luke, “isn’t exactly readily available, and I don’t know where else to turn. I just know Trish needs me, and I know she would never use our code unless she was in danger.” 

“I believe you.” 

Jessica met Bucky’s eyes, seeing nothing but truth in them. He did believe her, because he had a Trish, too. Bucky and Steve’s relationship was almost as publicly known as Jessica and Trish’s, and just like Jessica and Trish, the reality far outweighed what the media said. Where newspapers and tabloids reported on a Publicity Stunt Sisterhood, there was real affection. Where the History Channel saw Battlefield Fraternity, there was love. Bucky knew Jessica genuinely needed to ensure Trish’s safety. 

Bucky genuinely needed to ensure Steve’s. 

“Take me to her apartment,” he instructed Jessica, “and I’ll tell you if the guys we’re looking for are involved. If they aren’t,” Bucky added, “then I, at least, can’t help you any further. I’m sorry, Ms. Jones, but I’m under enough scrutiny with the lawmakers of the world, and I need to find my friend. If these are the same people, though, whom we think took Steve, then I’m all in. Deal?” 

“Deal,” Jessica didn't hesitate, “I should just warn you about the security system, though.”

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

“How do we know we can trust her?” 

“We don’t.” 

“She could be HYDRA.” 

“She’s not, Sam.” 

Bucky and Sam had been circling this topic ever since they’d left Jessica’ apartment. Sam had a point, the didn’t know her from Eve, but Bucky just had a feeling. It was almost like he had developed a sixth sense when it came to who to trust. If Jessica was with HYDRA, he would know, wouldn’t he? 

“Bucky,” Sam placed a hand on his shoulder, halting him, briefly, “I just wanna make sure you know what you’re doing. You just met this girl. Are you really ready to jeopardize our chances at finding Steve to help her?” Bucky nodded, emphatically. “Are you willing to jeopardize your safety?” 

Bucky hesitated at that. “I can’t explain it, Sam,” he dodged, “but, I need to do something. I can’t shake the feeling that, if we don’t get involved in this, we’ll be missing the key to getting Steve back.” 

“I understand,” Sam replied, gently, “just, don’t leap without looking, please. If anything happens to you-“ 

“Nothing’s gonna happen, Wilson.” Bucky flashed him a crooked smile, “You’ve got my back, don’t you?” 

“You know I do.” 

They continued on, catching up to Jessica, easily. She led them, silently, to an upscale apartment building that was almost the perfect opposite to her own rundown complex. “Stick with me,” she instructed, “the security guards here know me.” As if to prove her point, the guard at the front desk nodded, cordially, as the trio entered the building, not paying a second thought to Bucky and Sam as soon as Jessica assured him, “They’re with me. Childhood friends.” 

That was way too easy, Bucky noted, concerned. If a world-famous assassin and an avenger could get by undetected, who else had been let in? Who else could be in Trish Walker’s apartment right now? Jessica had every right to believe her friend was in danger! The very people who had been hired to keep her safe were unfathomably negligent! 

“I keep telling Trish her security is worse than mine.” Jessica explained, as they entered the elevator, “at least in my building, visitors have to be buzzed in.” 

“At least your friend has a locking door.” Sam quipped, smirking as she rolled her eyes. 

The playful banter died out quickly, as the elevator doors opened to Trish’s floor. Bucky wasn’t sure, but he thought he saw Jessica’s breath catch, and he was pretty sure she was holding it. He didn’t realize he was holding his, as well. Bucky reached into his pocket and withdrew his Swiss Army Knife, flipping the blade open. it was a small comfort to him that Wilson had brought a blade, as well, and Jessica was holding steady a small pistol he had had no idea she’d been concealing. 

At least they were all on the same page. 

“Trish?” Jessica tentatively pushed the call button on the security panel beside Trish’s door, “You’d better fucking answer. You know I can break down your door. You’ve seen me do it.” 

There was no answer. The longer the silence dragged on, the more dread Bucky saw etching itself onto Jessica’s face. She tried again, a bit kinder this time, but they all knew Trish wouldn’t answer. Whether she was behind that door or not, she couldn’t respond. 

“Jessica?” Bucky called, softly. 

“Break it down.” Her words were low and flat, “We need to break it down.” 

She’d been using the royal “we”. As soon as the words left her lips, Jessica was throwing her weight against the door, making it rattle against its hinges. “Come on!” She grunted, “Come you bastard! Fucking OPEN!!” 

Almost as if it had heard her, the door flew open, shearing off its locking mechanisms. Unsurprisingly to Bucky, nothing looked disturbed in the apartment. Everything was in order. A quick search confirmed that the only thing missing from Trish Walker’s apartment was Trish herself. 

“No…”Jessica whispered, softly, “No, she has to be here.” 

“Miss Jones,” Sam started, “is there anyone in Trish’s life who could be a threat to her?” 

“Everyone in Trish’s life is a threat to her!” Jessica turned on him, angrily, “Everyone! I’m supposed to protect her!” 

Bucky moved around the apartment, searching more thoroughly for clues he knew wouldn’t be there. The orderly crime scene, the undisturbed security, the apparent ease with which Trish had been taken, these were all signs. No other organization in the world was this careful in getting what it wanted without leaving a trace. 

So, he switched his point of focus. Instead of looking for what had been left behind, he had to look for what else was missing. Trish Walker was a celebrity, sure, but what was it about her that had attracted HYDRA? What could they want with a former child actress? Unless… 

“Jessica.” he asked, suddenly, “have you noticed anyone other than me following you in the past few months?” 

“No,” she replied, “you’re the only stalker I’ve had for almost a year. Trust me, I keep vigilant.” 

“Any strange phone calls? Late night visitors?” 

“No, no, no!” Jessica answered, firmly, “This isn’t about me! I’m not the one being threatened! I’m not the one who was just kidnapped!!” 

“No, but I’m thinking you were meant to be.” 

“Why would anyone want me?” 

“Because you’re an enhanced,” Sam told her, “and almost everyone who reads newspapers in New York knows that, thanks to what happened with you and that Kilgrave guy.” 

Bucky felt horribly out of the loop. He hadn’t been paying much attention to the news in the past year. He knew Jessica was an enhanced because he’d looked her up, and he had heard the name Kilgrave before, but he hadn’t bothered to dig too far into her past on that front, for fear of being triggered himself. All he knew was she had been kidnapped once, escaped, and then had another run-in with Kilgrave six months later, when she had killed him. Now, putting the pieces together… 

“Kilgrave’s the one who brainwashed you.” Bucky realized. 

“More like mind-controlled,” Jessica corrected him, “but yes, and I fail to see what any of this has to do with finding Trish!” 

“Whoever took her knew you would come looking for her,” Sam explained, “which means they did their research. They know you have powers, and they know you’ll use them to find your friend.” 

“You think someone took Trish as bait for me.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Can you think of another reason anyone would want to abduct your friend? Is she an enhanced, too?” 

“Trish is the only normal person in my life,” Jessica said, “and before you ask, if she was an enhanced, I would know.” 

At that moment, Jessica’s phone lit up, buzzing erratically. “I don’t recognize this number,” she commented, “it’s not Trish’s phone.” Her expression became stormy as she answered, snarling; “If this is the person who took my friend, enjoy your time with your remaining organs.” 

“Jessica Jones?” A nervous voice responded, “This is the hospital. Your number is on file as the emergency contact for Patricia Walker.” 

“Yes,” Jessica shut her eyes, breathing a heavy sigh of relief, “I’m sorry, it’s just been an extremely weird day.” She stared, pointedly, at Bucky and Sam, “Is Trish alright?”

There was no response. 

“Is she alive?” 

“Miss Jones,” the hospital administrator spoke, carefully, “I can assure you, we are doing everything we can for your your friend.” 

“That’s not an answer!” Jessica’s voice rose, “Is she alright?!” 

“She managed to get herself here,” came the reply, “but she is in critical condition. We had to place her in a medically-induced coma, but-“ 

Jessica didn’t bother to hear the rest before she ended the call, stowing her phone in her jacket pocket and relaying the news to Bucky and Sam. “Trish is alive,” she spoke evenly, “that’s what’s important.” 

“You need to go be with her.” Bucky understood. 

“I need to be there when she wakes up.” 

“Then, this is where we part ways.” Sam stepped forward, extending a hand to her, “We’ll continue to look into the people that did this. You go, keep Trish and yourself safe, and lay low for a while.” 

“Lay low my ass, Wilson,” Jessica refused, “someone just attacked my best friend. I’m not backing down from this.” 

“She’s right, Sam,” Bucky defended her, “we can’t ask Jessica not to do what we’re doing for Steve. Just, take care of yourself,” he turned to Jessica, “and keep us posted if you find anything.” 

“I’d give you my number,” Jessica tried to joke, “but something tells me you have it, already.” 

“Saved to my contacts and everything,” Sam promised, “we’ll be able to keep in touch.”

They watched her leave from the apartment balcony, faces set into identical masks of worry and determination. “She’ll be alright,” Bucky asserted, “she can take care of herself.” 

“I know she can,” Sam replied, “it’s not that I’m worried about.” He turned to face Bucky, meeting the former assassin’s hard gaze, “This is HYDRA, isn’t it?” Bucky nodded, stiffly. “Then, you know why they took Steve.” 

“They know I’ll come for him.” 

“They’re setting a trap. Trying to get as many enhanced as possible in one place by taking the people we love as bait.” Sam shook his head, resigned, “HYDRA may be idiots, but they’re not stupid.” 

“If you want to stay out of this-“ Bucky started to offer, but Sam stopped him. 

“There’s no staying out of it for me,” he answered, firmly, “I already lost one wingman. I’m not losing another.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here, the story is going to branch off, and jump between two storylines: Jessica's investigation and Bucky and Sam's. I'll let you guys know whose perspective each subsequent chapter will be told from in the notes for those chapters, and the two storylines will merge again once we get closer to the end.


	7. homegrown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jessica's perspective

Jessica rushed into the hospital lobby, not winded from running the entire way there, but from the fear that had threatened to strangle her from the moment she had seen Trish’s empty apartment. She couldn’t breathe properly until she knew her best friend, her sister, was alive. 

“Trish Walker.” She barked at the startled receptionist, “Where?” 

“Um, are you family?” The young man asked, uncertainly. 

“Yes,” Jessica replied, immediately, “which room is she in?” 

“107, down the hall,” he responded, “but, Miss, she’s in critical condition, you can’t just-“ 

Jessica was already halfway down the hallway, ignoring the questioning glances around her. 101 she counted in her head, 103, 105- 

There she was. 

Time seemed to speed up. One second, Jessica was standing in the hallway, staring at a number plaque beside a door, the next she was beside Trish’s comatose form, staring down at the one person she needed to talk to the most right now. “Trish…” Jessica breathed, “you wouldn’t believe what’s happened today. I don’t, fully. It’s insane. Oh, shit,” she wiped furiously at her eyes, cursing herself for crying, “I didn’t know I could still do that. Guess I’m not the ice queen bitch everyone thinks I am.” 

God, Trish looked bad. Hooked up to a oxygen tank with a mask covering her nose and mouth, it was clear she had been in one hell of a fight. Trish’s face was a Jackson Pollock painting of bruises, and stitches criss-crossed her hairline. The marks on her neck were in the shape of fingers, meaning someone had tried to choke her out. Seeing the mess her sister had been made into made Jessica’s vision tint red at the edges. She had to curl her hands into fists and stuff them into her pocket to stop herself from busting a hole in the wall.

Jessica didn’t need to be emotional right now. She needed a clear head. Someone had done this to Trish. HYDRA? Maybe, that was most likely. Kilgrave? No, he was dead. She had snapped his neck like a dry breadstick with her bare hands. 

Wait, there had been another organization. Trish’s old boyfriend, Will, had been wrapped up in some bizarre shit, before he had disappeared. He’d had these pills he took that made him…well, made him an enhanced, comparable in strength to Jessica herself, and maybe even Luke. 

Wonder how that fight would end, Jessica’s mind wandered a bit, before refocusing on the task at hand.

Someone had to have given Will those pills. They weren’t run-of-the-mill street drugs. Knowing Trish, she had, no doubt, done some digging after Will’s disappearance. Stupid, surely, but Jessica felt strangely proud. It was what she would have done, herself. Maybe whoever had dosed Will had discovered that Trish was searching. 

What if she’d found something? 

“Excuse me?” Jessica startled a bit, caught off guard by the sudden appearance of a nurse. “Visiting hours are coming to an end, Miss. Unless you’ve made arrangements to stay the night, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.” 

“Just give me a few more minutes,” Jessica requested, “she’s my sister.” 

“Family isn’t exempt from rules.” 

“Give me a break! Damn!” 

The woman’s expression softened. “You’re Jessica Jones, aren’t you? I’m the one who called you when she came in. I had no idea you two were sisters.”

“Save it,” Jessica grumbled, starting to leave, “I’m on my way out.” 

“I read the papers, you know.” 

She stopped short. “So, you keep up with current events,” Jessica replied, sarcastically, “congrats! You about as much as anyone else in this fucking city.” 

“I know what you girls went through together. It’s awful what that man did to you.” 

“Kilgrave’s taken care of,” Jessica met the nurse’s eyes, “I don’t need your sympathy. Just, do your job.” She regarded Trish, “Keep Trish alive. Wake her up, if you can.” She turned to leave the room, before turning around one last time. “Hey, this might sound weird,” she began, “but, when Trish came in, did she say anything?” 

“Her head wounds were severe,” the nurse answered, “she collapsed almost as soon as she made it into the lobby.” 

“But, before she passed out, do you know if she spoke? A word, a phrase, anything at all?” 

“Well, yes,” the nurse realized, “actually, the doctor who brought her into surgery said she did seem to be muttering something; very odd, it didn’t make much sense, but apparently it was the only thing she said, and she kept repeating it until she was given anesthesia. Homegrown, I think, was the phrase.” 

“Homegrown? You’re sure?” 

“Yes, does it mean anything to you?” 

“No,” Jessica replied, thoughtfully, “but I think I know what it meant to her.” 

~~~~~~~~~~~ 

There was something inherently wrong about breaking into Trish’s apartment twice in one day. Jessica had been here alone before, but she had been able to give adequate warning, then. She had been able to make herself feel welcome in this opulent example of New York luxury, almost as if she lived here, instead of in her own shitty fleabag. 

Now, it just felt like trespassing. 

The apartment had always seemed massive, like an entirely different world that had been cut off from the dirty streets of the city. Jessica wandered aimlessly, letting her fingers trail over the walls and counters, trying not to get lost in her own mind. Trish would be coming back soon. She had to be careful not to trash the place. Her friend would need a clean place to heal. 

Jessica searched the living room and kitchen first, unsurprised when nothing turned up. She knew Trish would have the good sense to hide whatever she had found either in a hidden safe or a secondary location nowhere near here, but she would want copies close at hand for review, probably scanned and saved onto a hard or flash drive.

Jessica moved from the living room into the hallway that led to Trish’s bedroom and gym. She wouldn’t have hidden anything she didn’t want found in her bedroom. Their turbulent childhood had taught both ladies that the bedroom was always the first place searched, whether the searchers were a crazy death cult, hell-bent on spreading chaos, or an abusive mother looking for a junk food stash. 

Still, Jessica reasoned, it wouldn’t hurt to look. 

She wasn’t surprised when she didn’t feel guilty for rifling through Trish’s dresser drawers. Jessica had always prided herself on her ability to compartmentalize. This wasn’t her friend’s apartment, she told herself, it was just a client’s house, and she had to find clues because the parents were breathing down her neck and she was facing a deadline. 

Trish was just…at work. 

She was fine. She’d be home later. 

She wasn’t hurt. She wasn’t in the hospital. Jessica hadn’t just seen her in a coma a few minutes ago. 

That hadn’t been Trish. 

As expected, there was nothing in the bedroom; just a lot of undergarments Jessica had no idea Trish had the guts to wear. “Not Trish,” Jessica whispered to herself, “just another client.” 

The gym was the final option. If there was nothing there, then the materials weren’t in the apartment. Jessica had never stepped foot in this room, before. It was impressive, built for combat-based workouts. A rack of various firearms (Jessica wondered if they were real) hung on one wall, and assorted gear and machines were set against the other three. Trish hadn’t been screwing around when she had said she wanted to learn to defend herself. Jessica was very impressed. 

Casting her gaze around, Jessica tried to put herself in her client’s headspace. This was a clever girl. She wouldn’t hide valuable information anywhere obvious, or anywhere she thought would catch attention. She would have hidden her findings, in whatever form they were saved, in the most random place possible, somewhere only she would think to look, like among her guns, or in one of the boxing gloves that hung on the wall- 

or, in the weight setting mechanism of a pull-down bar. 

Jessica chuckled as she approached the machine, examining the peg of the mechanism that determined how much weight to add to the pull-down bar. It was only barely in its hole, blocked from going all the way in by a suspicious obstruction. She moved the peg aside, lifting the weight slab enough to get to the small flash drive that had been concealed in the space between 130 lb. and 140 lb. 

“They underestimated you,” Jessica stared at the drive like a dying man at the sun, “bet they didn’t even know you found anything.” 

“Jessica?” 

She whipped around, tucking the flash drive safely in her pocket before charging the new intruder and driving him out of the gym, pinning him to the wall of the hallway. “Good to see you, Simpson,” Jessica lied, “I need to ask you something.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this? Two chapters in one week? I'm getting pretty good at updates! 
> 
> Also, I'm realizing how shady it is that I promised a new chapter every Tuesday, then didn't update yesterday! I'm sorry, I swear I didn't do that on purpose! :(


	8. Intruders

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Starts from Jessica's perspective, then switches to Sam and Bucky's

“Tell me everything.” 

“Jessica, I don’t know-“ 

“You do know. You know everything. Tell me what you know.” 

“I swear, I don’t-“  
“Swearing’s a filthy habit to get into, Simpson. Now tell me what you fucking know!” 

Jessica had let Will down from the wall and dragged him into the living room, where they were now sitting across from each other. Will shifted uncomfortably on the couch, trying to look anywhere but at Jessica, who had perched herself on a chair she’d grabbed from the kitchen. “I don’t know anything specific,” he spoke, quietly, “just faces and a few names.”

“Names. Now.” 

“The doctor who handled me, his name is Kozlov. His company, IGH, recruited me after I got out of the army.” 

“And what,” Jessica probed, impatiently, “you owe him money or something?” 

“No,” Will replied, “this isn’t about money. It’s about what Trish was looking into.” 

“Homegrown.” Jessica put the pieces together, “Trish was digging into your past, wasn’t she?” 

“I suppose so, and she must have found something.” Will shook his head, a haunted look in his eye, “IGH doesn’t typically fraternize with outsiders unless it has to.” 

“Will,” Jessica struggled to keep her voice level, “how would IGH know if Trish was looking into them? What kinds of alarms do they have up?” 

“I already told you, I don’t know specifics. I didn’t have to.” Will suddenly looked very uncomfortable, shifting away from Jessica as much as possible and avoiding eye contact. He really was a shitty liar. “They’re not idiots. They probably stalked her for days before they made a move.”

“You know how they operate!” Jessica’s patience was gone, “You worked with Kozlov, with IGH! They don’t sound like the kinds of people who would risk stalking a high-profile target, especially in a place like New York!” 

“I know them better than you do, Jessica.” Will scowled.

“Then, you know their methods!” Both of them were on their feet now, inches apart. Jessica was practically seething. How could Will let his loyalty to this Kozlov person stop him from helping Trish? Had he ever cared about her at all? “There’s more you aren’t telling me!” She left no room for arguments, “How did they find out about Trish?!” 

“BECAUSE I TOLD THEM, ALRIGHT?!?” 

A stunned silence enveloped the apartment. So, there was the answer. Will had never cared about Trish. If he had, he never would have put her in danger. He never would have sold her out. “You betrayed her…” Jessica whispered, shocked. 

“Jessica, please, hear me out,” Will reached to lay a hand on her arm, but she pulled away as if she’d been electrocuted, “I didn’t have a choice!” 

“NO!” Jessica exploded, “I know about not having a choice! I know about being forced against your will to do things you would never do! You had a choice! YOU SHOULD HAVE PROTECTED HER!!” 

“Oh, like you did?!” 

Jessica didn’t hesitate. She poured every ounce of pain and fury into the punch that landed square onto Will’s nose. As he doubled over, grabbing his face in pain, she felt a small spark of satisfaction. “I never turned my back on her,” Jessica hissed, “and I would never sell her out like you did. You’re going to help me find IGH, and then you’re staying the hell out of our lives, forever.” 

“IGH won’t let you get close.” Will snarled, “They already know you’re coming for them. They’re five steps ahead of you, and they always will be.” 

“Then, it’s a good thing I have a bargaining chip.” 

“Why should I help you?” 

“Because you’re still in love with Trish.” Jessica reasoned, “Why else would you have come to her apartment?” 

~~~~~~~~~~ 

“It just feels wrong, breaking in here.” 

“You and Rogers broke into a floating super-max prison, and you feel guilty breaking into his apartment?” 

Bucky shot Sam a withering glare, but the power of the look was lost in the darkness of Steve’s apartment. The sun had set hours ago, and the only light was coming from the single dirty window in the living room. Bucky had felt a pang of anger toward SHIELD when he had first seen the inside of Steve’s…well, for lack of a better word, home. The apartment was small and sparse, hardly any bigger than the one Bucky had been squatting in back in Bucharest. Surely Wilson, at least, knew how depressing this place was. 

“He didn’t want to make anything permanent,” Sam had explained, sensing Bucky’s tension when they’d entered, “in case-“ 

“He had to go on the run with me?” Bucky had guessed, earning a quiet chuckle from his companion. 

Bucky couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been, had he not chosen to go back into Cryo. Maybe he and Sam wouldn’t be searching this place for answers. Maybe Steve wouldn’t be missing at all. 

Maybe he and Bucky would be living here together. 

No, Bucky decided, making his way to Steve’s bedroom, they would have found a bigger place. Somewhere they could make their own, the way they had with their first apartment in Brooklyn. Nothing fancy, but not this depressing pit where dreams obviously went to die. 

The bedroom, sadly, looked barely used. At least the rest of Steve’s apartment had shown signs of life; threadbare throw pillows casually tossed onto an old couch, books on shelves, shoes by the door. This room could have passed even the most rigorous military inspection. The walls were bare, and painted a sickly beige color. The bed was little more than a metal frame with a thin mattress and white linens. All together, it looked like every hospital Steve had gone to in the forties. 

There was, however, one strange exception. 

Peeking out from under the lone pillow on the bed was a hardcover book. Bucky went to retrieve it, inhaling sharply as he gazed upon the familiar title: Achilles: Facts and Fictions. 

“Nerd,” Bucky whispered, fondly, “of course you found a new copy of this.” 

Bucky didn’t have a ton of memories from his childhood. He knew the names of his family members, thanks to Steve and the exhibit at the Smithsonian, and he knew he’d had a thing for redheads for a while before he’d wised up and realized who he really wanted, but that was about it. Most of what he thought he remembered was just questions. Had he worked at a dock before the war? Had he been raised catholic? Had he really almost fought a teacher for hassling Steve about homework he’d missed while in the hospital? Probably yes to that last one. Bucky thought that sounded like something he would do. 

But this book? He was certain he remembered this. Steve had read this as research for a school play. The stubborn punk had been picked to play Achilles in third grade, and Bucky had played Patroclus. Neither boy had known the story of the Trojan war very well, so they had agreed to practice together. The day their teacher had assigned roles had been the first day they’d met, and this book had brought them together. 

Bucky flipped the book open, surprised to find that a small rectangle had been carved out of the tops of the pages, forming a sort of secret box, where a flash drive sat concealed. “Hey Sam,” Bucky called, “I found something.”

“So did I,” Sam entered the room, holding a plastic cylinder, “this was hidden inside one of the legs of Steve's coffee table. Crafty punk must have hollowed out the wood.” 

“He thinks like a true SHIELD agent.” Bucky smiled, “Romanoff would be proud. Found this,” he held up the flash drive, “hidden in a book.” 

“He must have been doing some serious research.” Sam examined the cylinder, “Five bucks says this is the reason he disappeared.” 

“It’s gotta be HYDRA, right?” Bucky asked, “I mean, who else could force Steve off the grid like this?” 

“We have to consider every possibility,” Sam replied, “it could be anyone. Ten Rings, Zemo’s old kill squad, hell, even some pro-registration assholes.”

“Sam,” Bucky regarded him incredulously, “you really think a few run-of-the-mill extremists could get the best of him?! Steve’s not stupid, Wilson!” 

“I’m not saying he is, but until we have proof-!” 

“Steve disappeared without a trace! How much more proof do you need?!” 

“And what if it’s not?” Sam replied, “Bucky, what if it’s not HYDRA, and we spend all our time chasing the wrong people? What happens to Steve then? Look,” he placed a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, “I agree, HYDRA is most likely to blame, and we will look into their possible involvement, but if we end up finding proof that someone else did this, I need to know you’ll be able to accept that.” 

“I can accept it,” Bucky took a breath to calm himself, “I promise. I just…” 

“I know,” Sam interrupted, sympathetically, “I’m worried about him, too.”

The creak of a floorboard caught both of their attentions. Bucky stiffened, removing a large knife from the sheath around his waist, while Sam flattened himself against the bedroom wall by the open door. 

“I’ll take point.” Bucky mouthed. 

“Barnes, wait!” Sam whispered, “We do this together!”  
Bucky was already out of the room, moving quietly down the hall toward the living room. As he rounded the corner, a sudden movement to his left caught his eye. Bucky instinctively swung his arm to knock the intruder to the ground, acting quickly as soon as he heard the impact of body against floor by planting one foot on the intruder’s chest and pinning the stranger to the ground. 

“Buck, no!” Wilson pulled him back, suddenly. 

“What the fuck, Wilson?!” Bucky shoved Sam away, furiously, “You want this guy to get away?!” 

“It’s fine, Wilson,” the stranger (a woman, Bucky realized now) got to her feet, rubbing the back of her head, “I’ve taken harder hits.” She stepped into the beam of light from the window, and Bucky suddenly felt horrible for knocking her down. “You recognize me now, Barnes?” She teased. 

“Yeah,” he replied, “sorry about all that, Natasha. Guess I’m just kinda jumpy right now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still alive! These past few weeks have been chaotic, with me breaking my first bone and continuing my duties as secretary of the harry potter club at my college; but, I have not forgotten my duty to my readers! So long as you guys never give up on this story, then I never will, either.


End file.
